


songs of angry men (do you hear the people sing?)

by minirovks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, I hate myself, M/M, aw man!!, but as soon as i do it's over for all u hoes, i can't find it rn, i spent real time on this, oh man, sweet son of the lord, this is a fake election au based on that ONE tumblr post, uhh this is. yeah, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minirovks/pseuds/minirovks
Summary: “I think I’m in love with you.”Dean is silent.“Convenient timing, right?”orCastiel doesn't really know how to say goodbye to this.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	songs of angry men (do you hear the people sing?)

**Author's Note:**

> i know literally nothing about supernatural i've never watched an episode in my life also i wrote this at three in the morning while half-talking to a group of like eight people i do not take responsibility for any of this

Castiel is stuck in his building when he hears the news, not even from the television. 

He’s meandering groggily around the perimeter of his New York penthouse, trying and failing to shove his keys in the door and open it. He catches a glimpse of himself in one of the many mirrors scattered around his walls and straightens the coif of his wig. He’s not a natural blond, obviously, but he’s much too fed up with his opponents to prove them right through one pure, lazy mistake. He jams the keys in the lock one more time, like trying to parry a strike or something fancy that wealthy, college-educated people who participate in sports like fencing and golf say, but his head is still spinning, and he hasn’t had his coffee, and oh, man, has this been a fucking day, and then he hears the cries from beyond his window.

First it’s just a whoop that comes out of nowhere, and he dismisses it as the usual neighbourhood noise, but then it’s followed by another, and another, and suddenly people are rushing out onto the streets and dancing and crying and still six feet apart, a perfect storm of controlled chaos, civilized barbarism. He can’t make out what they’re saying, so he furrows his brow and leans closer, cracking the window open a touch so he can hear through the bug screen.

It’s him. And then right alongside Castiel, there’s… _him_.

Castiel is lost, and they’re rejoicing, and it’s like something out of a movie—there’s a scene from that one musical, right? How does it go, again? _Do you hear the people sing?_ , he thinks, aptly. He does. They’re here, and they’re singing about him, and despite being forced to hear them, they can’t do the same for him. He is right in their midst, and simultaneously they burn this inflated, exaggerated version of him at the stake and don’t even see him at all, and Castiel is stuck in his building and he’s tired and he can’t figure out how to open the door and he has never wanted to disappear more in his life.

~

Part of the problem is that he doesn’t know who to talk to. If word of this got out to the public, who knows what they would say, and the only real friend he had before was...well. Him. And it’s not like he could talk to Dean now. Not now that they’ve pitted themselves against each other so viciously. That’s on him, he thinks. He started this fire, and now he has to lie down in it. He doesn’t think that’s quite how the expression goes.

Dean is the only person he could talk to, or who could comfort him at all, so he tries to imagine what he would say. Something vaguely sarcastic, he thinks—they had a good balance going, Castiel’s point-blankness and Dean’s healthy dose of snark—but not uncomforting. Dean is still learning how to be genuine, but he isn’t incapable of it. Or, well, who knows what he’s up to know. They haven’t spoken in ages. Castiel doesn’t think he has the right to speak about Dean in the present tense.

Doesn’t that mean he has to earn it, though?

~

Castiel, despite his ambivalence, shows up to Dean’s inauguration. In accordance with his ambivalence, tugging him back and forth between his home and the assembly hall and causing him to miss the train, Castiel shows up late. Dean is waving to the audience from his podium like it’s a fucking promontory and he’s a spider, reaching out his webs to the world, beaming brilliantly, and then he’s gone, disappeared behind the curtain, two Secret Service guards left in his wake. The ceremony is over.

The ceremony is over, but _this_ , Castiel and Dean, can’t be. Adrenaline shocks through his body, and he is finally sober and awake from the limbo he has been stuck in for the last year campaigning against Dean. Castiel won’t allow it to be over. He harnesses the adrenaline to sprint up to the stage, pushing past everyone else in the audience, sliding under the guards’ arms shooting out to grab him, and—oh.

Oh, shit, there he is.

“Castiel?” Dean says, colder than he’d imagined.

“Dean,” Castiel says, almost too close to a gasp, “I think—”

“I’m really surprised you came to…” His eyes dart briefly over the walls.

“Of course I did. Listen, Dean—”

“I’m sorry you had to lose for me to get what I wanted.”

“This isn’t about that.”

“I want you to be happy.” His eyes are staring just over Castiel’s shoulder, refusing to acknowledge him. He’s drifting, distant, and Castiel wants nothing more than to bring him back down to Earth.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Dean is silent.

“Convenient timing, right?” Castiel jokes, a brief, sad imitation of Dean’s sharp-edged wit.

“You were my _best friend_ ,” Dean says.

“I know. I’m sorry. I never wanted that to end. I’m in love with—”

He finally looks up. A crook of his finger brings the guards in with them. Castiel never thought he was particularly short, but they tower over him like turrets, the kind medieval archers would hide behind to shoot the enemies of the people.

“I can’t, Cas. I don’t.”

_Oh._

“Also now you have to go to super mega turbo gay federal prison


End file.
